


Intermezzo

by Layla_Sanura



Series: Clearblue [4]
Category: Anita Blake: Vampire Hunter - Laurell K. Hamilton
Genre: Action/Adventure, Drama & Romance, F/M, Gen, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-20
Updated: 2020-05-20
Packaged: 2021-03-03 05:14:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,951
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24279424
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Layla_Sanura/pseuds/Layla_Sanura
Summary: With Anita's help, Clearblue forms a path forward with Asher and Clover.
Relationships: Asher (Anita Blake)/Original Character(s)
Series: Clearblue [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1725550
Comments: 5
Kudos: 5





	Intermezzo

**Author's Note:**

  * For [cassielwings](https://archiveofourown.org/users/cassielwings/gifts).



> This is a "half story" to work through some of the emotional drama and tie up loose ends of the first three installments.
> 
> The events of _Intermezzo_ begin two days after _The Sapphire Oba_.

**Chapter 1: Lunch Date**

Clearblue was engrossed in writing notes on her recently acquired patient when her desk phone rang, and she almost jumped out of her skin.

“Dr. Aldan, you have a visitor. May I send her in?” Erin’s voice buzzed happily through the speaker.

Startled, she replied, “Yes, sure.”

Anita was very possibly the last person Clearblue expected to walk through her door. She was dressed elegantly in navy wool trousers, a matching belt, and a crisp white blouse that managed to decrease the look of her breasts. Her short pumps were white with blue trim and featured small blue designs on the toes. Her hair was loose, as usual, and looked especially striking against the white of her top, the long curls hanging to her mid-back.

“Anita. What a . . . nice surprise.”

She flashed a knowing smile. “I thought about calling ahead, but figured you would’ve made an excuse not to see me. C’mon, I’m taking you to lunch; I have two hours before I have to be at the cemetery and I’m starving.”

“I really would love to, but I have to finish compiling this patient’s file—”

“So finish when you get back. I checked with your receptionist: you don’t have another appointment until 3 o’clock. You must be a little hungry. My treat.”

 _No such thing as a free lunch_ , she thought, and groaned inwardly at what this meeting was really about. Stuck without a plausible alternative, she gave in. “Alright, thank you. Where are we going?”

“A little bistro down the street—the best ham and Swiss I’ve ever had. You’ll love it.”

Clearblue grabbed her coat from the rack and pulled it on, along with her scarf. “I’ll be back in an hour or two, Erin. Transfer all my calls to voice mail,” she said as they passed through the lobby.

Anita retrieved her windbreaker from the sofa, and they rode the elevator together to the first floor.

**Chapter 2: Blitz at the Bistro**

Over water and breadsticks, the two women made small talk about the steadily declining temperature and overcast weather dominating the St. Louis skies of late; the details of Anita’s work and its disparity from Clearblue’s; and Clover’s blooming relationship with Monica Vespucci—which came as a shock to the necromancer.

“Wow, I’m officially out of the loop. How long have they been together?”

“A week-and-a-half, two tops. Clover hasn’t dated a woman in a while; I haven’t figured out yet what makes Monica so special.” Clearblue rolled her eyes. “And I doubt he’s told her about Asher, so we’ll see how long _that_ lasts.”

Anita momentarily ignored the mention of Asher. “Monica has a certain charm to her, from how I’ve seen her interact with others. She’s not a close friend of mine, though.”

“If he only wants a fling, I think he’s making a mistake dating someone with a child. There’s a lot of added responsibility there, not to mention the kid’s hurt feelings when things don’t work out.”

“People have to learn the hard way sometimes.”

She shrugged, just as their waiter arrived with their meals: a toasted ham and Swiss with garden salad for Anita and a turkey on rye with a fruit cup and mug of hot tea for her. They lapsed into silence as Clearblue fixed her tea the way she liked it and Anita drizzled dressing over her lettuce.

Anita picked up their conversation again once Clearblue took a rather large first bite of her sandwich: “Asher’s a mess.”

She chewed faster in attempt to reply, but Anita had planned this well.

“I want you to know up front that neither Asher nor Jean-Claude asked me to talk to you. I feel bad about what Jean-Claude said to you on Sunday—he didn’t discuss that bit with me, because he knows I don’t like to get involved in other people’s personal shit, and I would’ve argued with him about it.”

She glared at Anita and kept chewing.

“That being said, just because I don’t like that he brought it up, doesn’t mean he’s wrong. We both know that Asher wasn’t at that Coalition meeting with Micah because you didn’t want him there. Jean-Claude’s point was that it can’t be that way between you two—you have to learn how to get along, despite the circumstances. And I know that seems difficult because you have feelings for him, but it’s the way it has to be.”

Finally, Clearblue swallowed, and immediately said: “Where do you get off telling me how to live my life?” She had to consciously control her voice so as not to draw attention to them.

Anita replied calmly, “I get off because I was where you are a few years ago. Not involving a sibling, but with Jean-Claude and Richard.”

That took the words from her mouth.

Anita smiled. “Yep. I couldn’t stand the thought of being with a vampire—ironic, now—so Richard and I dated for a while, we were even engaged for a short time. Then I discovered how much anger he carried around with him about being a werewolf, and one incident in particular made me reevaluate Jean-Claude. He and I have been together ever since, and Richard and I have been lovers on-and-off, but nothing as serious as it was before. He’s gotten a lot better recently, but I still can’t see myself with him in the long-term.”

“You still sleep with Richard, even though you’re with Jean-Claude?”

“Occasionally.”

“How does Jean-Claude feel about that?”

“He loves me, so he understands. And he has Asher. For a long time, the only way for Jean-Claude and Asher to be together was if I was in bed with them.”

Clearblue liked men and she liked women, but she had never had sex with more than one person at a time. “Oh,” was all she could manage.

“And now, the three of us do our thing, they do their thing, and Jean-Claude and I do our thing.”

“What do you do when they’re together? Don’t you feel left out?”

“No—I’m also with Micah.”

Clearblue thought her eyebrows might tangle in her hair, for how far they climbed her forehead. “You’re sleeping with Richard _and_ Micah on the side?”

“Richard is on the side, and not very often at that, but Micah and I are together. Like, _together_ together.”

“He’s your boyfriend?”

Anita nodded.

“And Jean-Claude’s your boyfriend?”

Another nod.

“And Asher . . . ?”

“Is my boyfriend’s boyfriend.”

Clearblue blinked at her once, then twice.

“We’re getting off track. I’ll explain all the relationships and who’s sleeping with whom another time. My point in this is: I fought myself, fought my _desires_ , for a long time when I was struggling with Jean-Claude and Richard. If Richard and I had been more open-minded about our situation, I think it could’ve turned into something unbelievable.” Anita closed her eyes and shook her head. “We had _so_ many hard years, so many hurtful things were said on all sides. Sometimes I wish I could go back and act differently, and save myself the heartache. But you’re starting from scratch. You’ve just met Asher—I mean, his healing was, what? Six weeks ago? A lot has happened since then, and yet, you haven’t taken the time to really get to know him and his family at the Circus. You can’t expect things to fall into place in a snap, exactly the way you want them.”

Clearblue stared at Anita before she asked, “What do you suggest?”

**Chapter 3: A Tour of the Facilities**

“Abstinence.” Anita paused to pop her last bite of salad into her mouth; Clearblue waited for her to explain. “Just take all the sex stuff off the table for a while and get to know Asher as a person. I think it’ll also help you focus on the hyenas and working with the Coalition and the Circus. You can’t keep hanging onto this resentment because, after a while, you’ll start to associate it with the people around Asher as well, and the whole thing will turn into a clusterfuck.”

“Interesting theory,” she replied, and sipped her tea.

“Oh, it’s not a theory: it’s what I did when I was torn between Richard and Jean-Claude. There was so much pressure I could barely stand to be around either of them. I couldn’t make a decision and the longer I waited, the worse it got—so I finally said, ‘The hell with it, I’m not fucking either of them.’ And things seemed to work themselves out.”

Clearblue frowned. “But I’m still pissed that Asher cheated. I haven’t forgiven him. And Clover . . . ” She sighed and looked down at her plate. “We’re talking, but it’s not the same. I think we’re both trying to forget what happened and it’s created a huge space between us.”

“Compartmentalize. You don’t have to forgive Asher; you _do_ have to work with him. Obviously, you and he had different ideas about the terms of the relationship, and he messed up. That’s fine. But don’t let it live in the forefront of your mind. Learn to be platonic associates, even friends maybe, and then revisit the cheating issue. As for Clover, he should give you his word that he’ll no longer sleep with Asher, either: the two of you need to make a pact that there’ll be a hands-off agreement when it comes to Asher.”

She shrugged. “Well, that’s the best idea I’ve heard yet. I don’t know if Asher and I can ever go back to the way we were, but at least this way we can move forward.”

“Exactly.” Anita smiled, then dove into her sandwich.

After a few minutes of comfortable silence while they ate, Clearblue asked, “So, who _is_ sleeping with whom?”

Anita laughed and nearly choked on her food. “That’s too complicated for lunch, we’ll definitely need more time. What are you doing tonight? Ever been to Guilty Pleasures?”

***

To call Guilty Pleasures a strip club was to call Thanksgiving dinner a mid-afternoon refreshment. Last spring, Clearblue had attended a friend’s bachelorette party at a club of the strictly human variety and thought it exciting—Guilty Pleasures was a tsunami of cloying energy that could captivate for hours anyone with even a hint of metaphysical power. Indeed, it was no wonder the establishment was the most successful of its kind in the city.

The potent energy crashed over her as soon as she set one foot in the door. Her knees were suddenly mounds of jelly and she grabbed Anita’s arm tightly for support. “My God,” she whispered.

Anita laughed good-naturedly at her. “I love watching people’s first-time reactions. That was one of the best.”

“I can’t believe you’re used to this—how often do you come here?”

“About once a week, depending on my work schedule and Circus obligations. Although, I’m not the best example; I first came here years ago when I was much less powerful. I guess I built up a tolerance as I grew metaphysically.”

The interior had only black lighting and rotating strobes of color by which to see. Clearblue kept a hand on Anita’s shoulder as they walked behind the audience that surrounded stages with several fit, gyrating young men upon them. Being so close to the wild spectators was dizzying: their thrill and lust buzzed around them like effervescent auras that mixed and compounded into thick layers in the air. The affect was not unlike the alcohol intoxication she’d experienced at Danse Macabre—heady and arresting.

Just at the point when she thought she might faint, Anita turned down a short hallway and opened an inconspicuous door. They entered an office with low yellow lamp light, cloth and leather furnishings, and (thankfully) a spinning ceiling fan. Clearblue flopped onto a deep easy chair nearest the fan’s breeze.

“You okay?” Anita asked.

“Yeah. Although, convincing me to be abstinent and then inviting me here was not the best plan of action.”

Anita smiled. “Well, you had to come sometime. Better get used to it now.” She took a seat across from Clearblue on a leather ottoman. “Did you see the two dancers center stage? One with short blond hair, one with long auburn?”

“Briefly.”

“They’re Jason and Nathaniel. Jason is a werewolf and Jean-Claude’s _pomme de sang_ —apple of blood. It means he’s Jean-Claude’s number one snack. In return, Jason gets status and protection. It’s also another way of binding the wolf Pack to the Master. Wolf is Jean-Claude’s animal, and Richard is his animal to call. Nathaniel’s a wereleopard and my live-in boyfriend—”

Clearblue sat up straight. “Another one?”

Anita nodded and actually blushed a little. “Through a weird set of circumstances, Nathaniel became my _pomme de sang_ a few years ago.”

“But, you’re not a vampire.”

“Not a true one, no. But after being around strong master vamps for so long and living through a ton of metaphysical shit, my necromancy somehow morphed me into a psychic vampire. Some people call me a succubus, usually as a joke, but it’s a good description: I need to feed on energy the same way a true vampire feeds on blood. Because of the type of vampire Jean-Claude is—originally of Belle Morte’s bloodline—the energy I need is sexual. Nathaniel offered himself as a source of sexual energy, like Jason provides blood for Jean-Claude.”

“And you and Micah are the leaders of Nathaniel’s—uh, what do the leopards call it?”

“Pard.”

“You and Micah are heads of Nathaniel’s Pard?”

“Yep. Nimir-Ra and Namir-Raj. Micah, Nathaniel, and I live together, or we did before everyone moved into the Circus.” Anita sighed. “It’s like a fraternity now. I haven’t had the heart to transfer the rest of my stuff yet; I’m still hanging on to my house. I—” She stopped as a new thought fluttered into her head. A wide smile crossed her face. “How would you like to rent it? That is, if you’re in the market?”

Clearblue pondered. “Well, my lease expires in two months; I was going to resign. How far is your house from my office?”

“About ten miles. It’s just outside the city.”

“Thank you for the offer. I’ll think about it.”

“Okay, where was I? What do you want to know?”

“Your lovers.”

“My steady boyfriends are Micah, Nathaniel, and Jean-Claude. Jason and Asher are frequent lovers, but I’m not technically in relationships with them. Crispin, Dominic, and Devil are new additions; Richard, Wicked, Truth, Damian, and London are rare.”

Clearblue blinked wide eyes at Anita as this information sank in. She didn’t have time to answer, however, before the same blond-haired stripper she’d seen on stage walked through the office door.

**Chapter 4: Jason in the Schuy with Glitter**

He had an all-over sheen of sweat and the light of the room caught and clung to patches of glitter on his body. The only garment spoiling his nude form was a gold spandex G-string.

“Speaking of,” Anita said. “Clearblue, this is Jason Schuyler.”

Jason grinned boyishly at her, walked over, and extended his hand. She stood and shook it, and found that she was the tallest person in the room. Clearblue watched him take in every bit of her: her long chestnut hair pulled up into a messy ponytail, black scoop-neck sweater with red tee showing underneath, blue skinny jeans, and sequined black flats.

When his eyes meandered back to her face, he said, “Oh yes, I’ve heard of you,” in a voice as sensual as his stage routine. “From multiple sources. I heard from Micah that you’re the new Oba, and I heard from J.J. that you’re sexy as hell. Guess they were both right.”

To be appraised and flirted with so blatantly by someone so nearly naked was quite overwhelming. Clearblue felt her cheeks go hot and saw the pleasure in Jason’s countenance at this. She heard Anita’s muffled chuckle over her shoulder and looked to her for help.

“Don’t pay attention to him; flirting is his sport of choice.”

“And I’m naturally athletic,” Jason added, latching on to her metaphor.

Anita smiled at him. “So, what’s up?”

“Nothing really. I saw you walking with the mystery woman here and thought I’d take a peek.” He turned to Clearblue. “Also, J.J. told me, if I ever saw you, to ask if you’d like to go out again to Danse Macabre the next time she’s in town, which will be in February.”

“Uh, sure. She’s the ballerina, right?”

“Yeah. You first met her with Catherine and Monica.”

“Okay. I’d be up for that.”

Jason gave Clearblue the once-over again. “Great. I’ll let her know.”

Anita paused before she asked, “Is Asher here?”

“He was an hour ago. You need to speak to him?”

“Yeah. We both do.”

“I’m on it.” Jason grinned at them once more before he left the room.

**Chapter 5: The Talk, Part I**

Asher was more than a little thunderstruck to see her when he strode into the office. “Clearblue,” he whispered, and took three hasty steps in her direction. He wanted to hold it back, but broke into a smile despite himself. “How good to see you.”

“I’ll give you two some privacy,” Anita said quietly.

Clearblue took a deep breath when the office door closed and silence filled the room. Asher knelt beside her and cupped her hands in his. She looked at him, into his flawless face, his eyes still and expectant. She missed the feel of his hands on her skin, more than she liked to admit. She was usually good at sticking to her convictions, but not touching him for who-knows how long was going to be a feat.

“I had lunch with Anita today. We talked about our current predicament, and she suggested what I think is the best possible solution for the circumstance. You know I’m attracted to you, Asher, and I thought you were attracted to me—”

“I am—”

“Please, let me finish. I’ve been attracted to you from the first moment I saw you, and maybe that’s the problem: I couldn’t see through the attraction. We’re both responsible for the hyenas, which means we need to work together. I need to learn how to be around you without getting angry, and for that, as Anita put it, we need to take sex off the table. She suggested abstinence.”

Asher closed his eyes for a beat, and then opened them with an earnest expression. “I would be lying if I said I am not disappointed. However, if this is what you need, then this is how it will be.”

“And with Clover as well. I haven’t talked to him about it yet, but I’m certain he’ll agree.”

He nodded. “With Clover as well.”

Clearblue smiled at him for the first time in a long time; he returned the gesture weakly and pressed his forehead to her knuckles. His hair fell around him in a great golden curtain for an extended moment before he stood, bowed slightly, and made his exit.

**Chapter 6: The Talk, Part II**

Clearblue slid her key into Clover’s lock, fully aware of the events that had followed the last time she did so—the tension in her shoulders a testament to this knowledge. She had sent him a warning text on her way over, and he was seated in the living room awaiting her arrival when she opened his front door.

“Hey Clear,” he said, and attempted a smile.

She walked over and sat across from him, her coat and purse still on. “Hey Clo.”

“What’s going on?”

There was no point beating around the bush. “I just came from Guilty Pleasures where I talked with Asher. We decided how to proceed. I think it’ll help a lot, but you have to agree to it, too.”

“Sure, anything.” He looked and sounded relieved.

“Upon Anita’s advice, Asher and I decided to be abstinent. I’m not going to sleep with him. I need your word that you won’t, either.”

He smiled sincerely, and it shone out through his eyes. “You got it.”

She blinked. “What—that’s it? Just like that?”

“I told you, it was a physical thing with Asher and me. He’s a good guy, but I don’t care about him the way I do Monica, or the way you do him, for that matter. You have my word.”

Clearblue exhaled. Why was she prepared for another fight? She went to her brother and hugged him. “Thank you,” she whispered at his ear.

When they parted, she sat beside him on the couch. “So, Monica. It’s not a fling, huh?”

“Nope. I really didn’t know what to expect with her. Maybe it started casual on both sides, but the more time I spend with her, the more time I want to spend. She’s an enchanting woman.”

“I’m glad, Clo. It’s about time you had another serious relationship.”

“Speaking of that, this no sex thing—it’s just with Asher, right?”

She laughed. “Yes, just Asher.”

He wiped his brow in jest. “Oh good.”

**Chapter 7: A Meeting of the Fangs**

Clearblue woke up refreshed the next morning: she had slept more soundly than she had the last two weeks. She had a patient meeting at ten AM, and then was again surprised by a visit from Anita at lunch. They went to the same bistro—because it was convenient, and because Anita was right, the sandwiches were to die for.

“It’s so nice to have someone with a similar work schedule. Jean-Claude and Asher are dead, Jason and Nathaniel have a new dance schedule every week, and Micah usually packs his lunch,” Anita said, after a large gulp of coffee.

“Yes, and I’ve been so busy since I moved back that I haven’t really had time for a social life. Oh hey! Monica texted me about seeing a movie with Catherine this Friday; do you want to come? We’ll probably get dinner before or after.”

Anita cocked her head and thought. “As long as it’s not a horror film—I have enough monsters to deal with in real life.”

Clearblue laughed. “Fine with me.”

Thursday and Friday flew by, and Clearblue thoroughly enjoyed herself Friday evening. She’d missed time spent with a group of women, and all the gossip and advice that went with it. Catherine had revealed that she and her husband were trying for children, to the delight and chagrin of Monica and Anita, respectively.

And then in a flash it was Saturday night: the evening of the grand Coalition meeting to be held in the auditorium of the Circus of the Damned. Due to sheer numbers, Micah had decided that only were leaders and dominants were required to attend; after that it was first come, first serve. They ran out of tickets by Wednesday and expected a packed house.

Clearblue felt as though she had a bees’ nest in her stomach as she listened to Micah’s introduction. Standing with her in the shadowed side stage were Clover, Anita, Richard, Rafael, and a young man with peculiar hair and skin named Donovan. He smelled avian, but when she probed his beast, she got nothing but the sensation of ruffling feathers for her trouble. Strange.

She peered out into the stands and glimpsed a sea of wereanimals. There was not one empty space; it was like the arena at Narcissus in Chains, times a thousand. In the center of the large, well-lit open floor was a polished wooden podium at which Micah spoke. To his left was a row of six empty chairs, to his right, four chairs occupied by Jean-Claude, Asher, Damian—whom she recognized from Danse Macabre—and a petite woman with straight black hair cut in a chic bob.

She leaned over to Richard and asked: “This is all of us? All the leaders?”

“All the leaders separate from Anita, yes.” He smiled at her confusion. “I’m sure you know Anita has a handful of lycanthropy strains. She’s here representing the leopards with Micah, the wolves with me, and the tigers and lions on her own, as those groups still have to figure out their hierarchies and find mates suitable for Anita’s beasts.”

“Oh.—” She would’ve asked about Donovan, but Micah began to announce them.

“Please stand as we welcome Anita, on behalf of the tigers, lions, leopards, and wolves.”

A glaring spotlight shone on stage left as Anita confidently took the floor to raucous applause and shouts. She walked to the end of the line of folding chairs and sat, waving all the while.

“See you out there,” Richard whispered to Clearblue.

“Richard, of the wolves,” Micah continued. Richard followed suit and sat beside Anita. “Rafael, of the rats.” The applause persisted non-stop as the Rat King suavely walked out and sat with his comrades. “Donovan, of the swans.” Donovan set his shoulders and strode out with his head up. “I am here as Nimir-Raj of the leopards.” He paused for effect. “And now let us welcome the two newest members to our were community, Oba and Nieterkob of the Kabultiloa hyenas, Clearblue and Clover Aldan.”

Clover stood behind her and squeezed her arm in support; Clearblue took a breath and walked out. She didn’t think it possible, but the cheering grew even louder when they appeared, and she spotted a few familiar faces smiling in the front row. The Aldans filled the last two chairs and waved and nodded in appreciation.

The ceremony was fairly straight-forward: first, the other were leaders formally acknowledged the Aldans by shaking hands in a procession, and then Jean-Claude and his vampires did the same. It took no longer than five minutes before everyone was seated once again.

Micah returned to the podium and spoke again: “I now invite three of the hyenas to approach their leaders.”

On cue, Ares, Ulysses, and Bacchus wound their way out of the stands toward the stage. Just before they stepped into the spotlight, they shifted simultaneously and came running up to Clearblue and Clover, who fell to their knees to receive them. The hyenas licked the Aldans’ faces and rolled on their backs while the twins laughed and scratched their bellies. The sight was enough to make everyone on stage, and most of the audience, smile and coo.

After a minute of playtime, Micah gave a signal and the vampires and leaders filed off stage, leaving the Aldans with their animals. Another pause, and Micah said, “Clearblue and Clover Aldan,” in conclusion. More applause sprung up as the twins stood along with the hyenas, waved, and left the floor.

**Chapter 8: Tabula (Almost) Rasa**

The atmosphere after the ceremony was, in contrast, more relaxed. The were leaders and ten dominants from each group retired downstairs to the cavern living room. The majority of the wereanimals remained in the auditorium, where long banquet tables had been set up with coffee, bagels, cold meats, cheeses, and other _hors d’oeuvres_. Micah divided his time in half-hour increments between both assemblies.

The underground collection of black-tie guests made for a true soiree. Clearblue and Clover had decided to don a color of their animal: she wore a satin gown in a rich bronze color that flattered her bust and hips and tumbled to her toes, her hair up in a French twist and fixed with a topaz-encrusted pin; and Clover wore the same color satin shirt under his tuxedo. They were an eye-catching pair. Even Anita, who Clearblue could tell was not a big one for fashion, complimented their garments.

The last challenge of the night was interacting with Asher. There wasn’t time to speak with him during the ceremony, and she’d been so nervous at the prospect of standing before an audience that she hadn’t thought of anything else. But now that beehive feeling returned to her abdomen. How would he act? How would he look? —And hinging on this, now that they had agreed to be platonic, would she suddenly want to recant? By profession, she knew the mind’s functioning, knew of that phenomenon whereby an item once taken away sometimes rendered one more desirous of it. She hoped she would not fall victim.

Asher did not give her time to prepare. She felt a gentle hand on her elbow and turned to find him standing beside her. He looked gorgeous as always: his hair was pulled back into a low ponytail at his neck, just above his collar so as not to interfere with it, and like most of the men in the room, he wore a tuxedo. His tux ensemble looked different than it did while they were upstairs, though, and after a moment she saw why. He’d switched his black bow tie to one of a very near shade to her dress. The tie paired with his glittering hair—two bursts of color on an otherwise black-and-white pallet—was very fetching.

Clearblue couldn’t help but grin. “Where in the world did you find that tie?”

“I have ties in almost every color. When I saw your and Clover’s attire at the ceremony, I adapted as a show of solidarity.”

“It looks very nice.”

He inclined his head. “Thank you. Although, in future I would appreciate a call so we can coordinate _before_ an event.” His mouth curved into a slight smile.

“You’re right. Do it well or don’t do it at all.”

“ _Précisément_.” Asher spotted Ares to their right some yards off, freshly changed into a dark suit after his shift in the auditorium, politely pushing his way through the crowd toward them. Asher offered Clearblue his arm. “Shall we attend our hyena?”

She looped her arm through his and placed her hand gingerly on his wrist. “We shall.”


End file.
